Voices In My Head
by RavenHeart101
Summary: A simple check up at the doctor's turns dangerous when Blaine's mother suffers from a psychotic break. There are secrets he's been keeping from everyone, including those closest to him. And now that they're out in the open who's going to be the one to help him manage until the end? Trigger warning.


Voices in My Head

By: RavenHeart101

This is the obligatory disclaimer that says that I own nothing but the socks on my feet. Or something like that.

Summary: A simple check up at the doctor's turns dangerous when Blaine's mother suffers from a psychotic break. There are secrets he's been keeping from everyone, including those closest to him. And now that they're out in the open who's going to be the one to help him manage until the end?

**Warning**: Trigger warning. And other stuff.

* * *

The doctor's office was crisp and white, and his mother was dressed in a simple hospital gown, blue and tied at the back. He let out a small sigh, twisting the string together to tie the one at the base of her neck, gently, neatly, with almost trembling hands. He hated these visits, his mother hated these visits. But they were needed, especially to check how her body was holding up against the meds the doctors had given her.

Schizophrenia was a difficult mental disease to combat. And she had had it for a long time.

He had seen his mother without her meds, of course he had, but usually his father was there to combat her shifting attitudes and make her take them. But he had decided that it was simply too hard to stay with her not too long ago, and had left Blaine on his own to watch after her. Cooper had tried to get him to leave, telling him that it wasn't his responsibility, especially considering how negative her response seemed to be whenever he tried to help. But what was he supposed to do? Put her in a home? That seemed so inhumane – so impersonal compared to home care. Blaine was perfectly healthy. He could very well take care of her.

But, the truth was, that he had fears of his own. He used to know what he wanted to do with his life, but now he no longer knew that was even an option. Kurt wouldn't answer his calls – though, in all honestly, he deserved that – and New York was practically out of the picture at this point. He couldn't just leave his mother in Ohio to deal with this herself. That just… it wasn't right. It wasn't the right thing to do. It would only make him seem like such a bad son compared to others.

He would give up anything for her at the moment.

He didn't exactly have anyone else, anymore.

But, back to his own fears. Schizophrenia could be passed down genetically, which meant that it was very possible that he would be cursed with it too. And if that thought wasn't terrifying he didn't know what was. "Why am I here?" His mother wondered out loud, her familiar hazel eyes glancing at him in confusion. They were glazed in the way hers usually were when she was off her meds. Try as he might Blaine wasn't able to get her properly medicated or properly dressed by the time her appointment was to start. But he figured that was okay, her doctor made sure to medicate her himself during each checkup. "Baby, why am I here?"

Well, at least she recognized him this time. Blaine was very used to the times when she didn't. Those, usually, didn't end very well. "Check up with the doctor, mom." Blaine patted over her shoulders, smiling at her in a comforting manner, just as he had almost always done in the past two years. "Then we get to go home and I'll make you some lunch, huh? How does that sound?"

"I want spaghetti." She spoke airily, her voice carrying much in an almost musical way.

A small smile lifted at the corners of his mouth and he patted her hair like a father would his child, not in the way a son would his mother. "Spaghetti it is then."

She made a sort of satisfied noise, tilting her head to the side and kicking her feet against the table distractedly. He knew what she was doing – knew the voices in her head were whispering her stories and secrets that she wouldn't tell the world. He knew a lot of it actually, so Blaine settled himself into one of the chairs in the corner of the room and hummed a bit quietly to himself, opening up the book he had brought with him that he needed to have finished by that Monday for his Advanced Placement History class.

He would glance up at her every once in a while, but he was sure she wouldn't do any damage. His mother hadn't had a violent break since she was twelve, mostly she would start mumbling to herself or flailing. A few times she would throw plates but it was never anything too bad but to hurt emotionally, not physically. A few rude names Blaine could deal with expertly and with minimal attention.

The doctor knocked on the door, walking in with his chart over his arm and a smile on his face. "Good morning, Miss Riley. Blaine." He sent them both a smile, his eyes lingering a bit more on the boy who looked almost physically exhausted, slumped down in the chair with his hair gelled back only enough to keep it at bay. His outfit didn't scream tired, and neither did his face. But there was something about the way that he was carrying himself that brought the doctor to conclude that perhaps watching over his mother by himself was simply too much for him to handle while going to school. "How's everything going today, Miss Riley?" He asked as he did his simple checkup, listening to her heart and scribbling something down onto his chart.

She grabbed the collar to his jacket; pulling him in close and whispering a question in his ear that made his blood run cold. "Who is that?" She jerked her head towards Blaine, her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but a sweet smile spreading across her face when Blaine glanced up at them before looking back down at his book. "He's been here the whole time. He even watched me _undress_."

"That's your son, Miss Riley." He says carefully, quietly, hoping to not alert Blaine to the fact that his mother must have forgotten who he was. Again.

"Is it all right if I go to the bathroom, Doctor?" Blaine's timid voice piped up, his book placed carefully on the seat beside him as the doctor nodded his confirmation.

Hopefully, he could have this all fixed by the time Blaine came back. "No it's not." Her voice was stronger now that Blaine had left. "I have two little boys. Cooper and Blaine. _That_ is not one of them."

"What makes you say that?" He asked cautiously, praying that this episode would be done with by the time the door opened and Blaine would shuffle through again.

"They told me." She tugged him closer. "He's a demon, doctor. You have to protect me from him."

"Miss Riley-" His pager went off and he hastily checked it, frowning at the message that was blinking up at him. One of his patients, a pregnant mother, had fallen down her stairs and was in need of desperate medical attention. He would have to get a nurse or colleague to keep an eye on Miss Riley until he was done. He wouldn't want her doing anything she would regret once she was on her medication again. Like hurting her son or herself. "I'll be right back, Miss Riley, but my friend Nurse Brianna will be in in a moment to keep you and your son company."

"He's not my son." She whispered to him urgently, but there was nothing he could do short of sedating her. And she hadn't shown herself to be a danger to either of them yet.

Nurse Brianna smiled at the teenage boy as he slid back into the room, going back to his discarded book easily. Chances were this was the only real time Blaine had to do his homework besides when his grandmother was watching over his mother while he was at school. "How's school going, Blaine?" She asked smoothly, the boy looking up at her with a charming smile.

"As well as can be expected, Nurse Brianna." He answered easily, placing his finger in his book to save his page.

"And how's your show choir? You guys have a competition coming up, yes?" She remembered him mentioning something about a competition when his mother had had her last check up a month before.

"Yeah." Blaine smiled at her. "Two weeks from now, actually. Sectionals."

"You think you'll do good?" Blaine's mother started fidgeting in her seat, her eyes staring at nothing and her mutterings steadily getting louder with each passing second.

"I didn't think so at first but… Now I think we could pull it off." He shrugged and glanced out the window. "Our new recruits are really good, too. They have a great attitude so... I guess it's all a tossup, at this point."

She nodded as though she understood; though she figured it was a bit like sports. All the members needed to be good in order for the team to succeed in their end goal – whether that was winning a show choir competition or a game. Brianna heard a scrapping noise, faint but still there, from Miss Riley's side of the room and she glanced over at her, her heart stopping cold at the sight she was greeted with. Miss Riley was standing up from the bed, one of the needles that the doctor must have kept in his jacket full and in her hands, poised for attack. Her eyes were clear for once, and perhaps that was the thing that scared her the most. That and the way she was looking at her son as though he were some enemy. "Miss Riley…." She took a tentative step closer, pressing the button on the side of the bed meant for emergencies. Well, if this wasn't a proper emergency Brianna didn't know what was.

"Mom…." Blaine stood up slowly, his book cluttering to the ground. His eyes were wide as he looked at the needle in her hand. He couldn't look away in fear of what would happen if he did. It was almost a sick sort of fascination. "Mom… why don't you put down the needle…?" All the acting training he had received had never prepared him for this, and, in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the thought that maybe this was too much for him to handle on his own.

"You're not my son." And there it was that blinding pain. Blaine wasn't her son. He wasn't anyone to her, not anymore. Just like he wasn't anything to Kurt or the Warblers and _God_ when did it start hurting this much? "Demon give me back my son!"

She lunged at him, and Blaine, despite all of his boxing training and despite all of the bullies he had vowed never to let get in the way of his life, didn't do anything to stop her. She was his mother for crying out loud! He couldn't just hurt her! Nurse Brianna was quick to follow after her, wrapping her arm around his mother's waist and pulling. Trying her hardest to pull her back and off of her son.

Blaine's head banged back against the cabinets behind him sickeningly loud. He ignored the way the world spun around him, fighting to get at least one of his hands free from his mother's vice-like grip to shove her off. His hand clattered against the sharp edge of the sink behind him, the force of his mother's body causing the skin to rip against the rock. "Demon!" She screamed at him in a blind rage, slamming the needle down into his neck – the only place she could reach with both Blaine and Nurse Brianna holding her back.

The whole thing had happened in a matter of ten seconds, and no later had the door banged open and some big, burly orderlies stormed in. They grabbed his mother back in less than a second, holding her by both of her arms and her waist to drag her out of the room, kicking and screaming. Her doctor skidded to a halt in front of Blaine as he crumbled to the ground his hand holding onto his neck tightly, his eyes growing dazed as each moment passed. "God…" He sucked in a deep breath, keeping a steady hand on the boy's cheek, trying his hardest to assess the damage. "What happened?!" He demanded of Brianna as she kneeled beside him, one of her hands trying to stop the blood flow of his hand and the back of his head.

"I don't know!" She swore, her voice frantic and high as she tried to keep her emotions in check. "One moment we're talking about school and the next she has a needle and is flying at him!"

"Did it have anything in it?" The doctor asked with an almost numb voice. Brianna had no answer, her hair falling around her face and out of her pony tail. "Did it have anything in it?!" He pressed, harsher, louder this time.

Brianna whimpered. "I- Yes! Yes! I don't know what but yes! She must have gotten it from you!"

"I don't have any needles on me, Brianna!" He snapped, peeling away Blaine's hand from his neck and sucking in a sharp breath at the puncture wound, messy and letting out small drops of blood. "Shit!" He swore loudly. "We need a bed! He needs emergency!"

The world swam before his eyes and Blaine tried to suppress the need to vomit, his heartbeat pounding against his skill. He could barely breathe and he could barely stay awake. Vaguely he noticed the world fading in on him, but he could feel a burning spreading through his veins, starting from his neck down to his toes. It was everywhere, it was everything. Burning, burning, burning. He was on fire. He must have been on fire. Persecuted like the gays used to be during the Salem Witch Trials.

And it hurt. Oh, God, did it hurt.

So he screamed and he screamed and he wasn't sure if anyone could hear him screaming but he screamed and prayed that the fire, whatever kind of fire it was, would be put out because he wasn't sure how much more of this he could deal with.

* * *

Carole sat back at the table her family was gathered around, nursing a warm cup of coffee and listening to her boys bicker back and forth. She sighed and let her eyes slip closed for just a moment more, gripping Burt's warm, sturdy and strong hand in her own. They were all home, and it was a wonderful feeling to have all of her family back together. Finn and Kurt sniped back and forth at one another, the taller of the two trying to outdo Kurt in sarcasm, which he never could do, no matter how hard he tried. It seemed even he knew that, and it was simply a familiar way to start out the evening. Or something like that.

They had come to surprise Carole at work for a nice breakfast, the four of them gathering around a table in the hospital's cafeteria and having a pizza that Finn had ordered and brought along with him. It was rather comforting to have her three boys with her, without having to worry about Congress or school or the army. The air was as clear here as it was going to get.

That is, until her break was cut short, Henry – a fellow Emergency Room nurse she was on shift with this week – came running into the lunch room and over to her. His eyes were wide and frantic and she was up and out of her seat before she could count to ten. "A psychiatric patient from 10 lost control and attacked her kid, they're wheeling him down here now." He filled her in as she whipped off her hands and kissed each of her boys in farewell. She felt their eyes lingering after her as she ran down the hall, skidding to a stop at the elevator as it dinged open, a mass of doctors and nurses fluttering out and pulling a bed along beside them.

She tried not to let her shock show at the familiar head of curls and the scrunched up in pain face that had smiled at her step-son so many times within the last year or two.

It seemed as though he had been a part of her life for as long as Kurt had been. "We need a crash team!" The doctor – obviously the one from floor ten – yelled out frantically, allowing himself to be pushed to the side as another took his spot.

"What's his name?" Arthur, one of their ER doctor's, asked sharply.

"Blaine." The other doctor filled in quickly. "Blaine Devon Anderson. Born December 14th, 1995. His mother has schizophrenia and is my patient." He followed them down the hall as they rushed into an open room, Arthur shouting out orders wherever they went. "She had a break and attacked him. He has an injury to the head along with a pervious head injury from two years ago. He has a large serration on his left hand, but what I'm really worried about is the puncture wound on his neck. She stuck him with something but we don't know what."

"Got it." Arthur nodded in confirmation and rushed by, grabbing hold of a crash cart and wheeling that, and Blaine, into an unoccupied room, the door slamming shut behind him and the nurses that had accompanied him.

Carole… well she was frozen on the spot; her brain incapable of working much passed the thought of _Blaine_, _schizophrenia_, and _attack_. Someone had to call his father – his brother even! There was no way this poor boy was going to go through this alone! She rushed back to the cafeteria she had come from, happy to see that her family was still there, finishing off the pizza they had brought. She grabbed Kurt's phone out of his hand, ignoring his indignant yell of surprise and the sound of chairs scrapping behind her.

Carole was quick to find the number that she needed, pressing the phone against her ear and pushing Kurt back with a gentle, yet firm, hand on his chest. She waited as it rang, praying that someone would answer it.

She wasn't even sure how she knew that Kurt would have kept the number, or why she thought that the person she was calling would answer if they saw Kurt's name. But there was something that told her that they would. That they had before. That they would again.

"Carole what are you doing?!" Kurt's voice snapped at her in question but she paid him no mind, letting out an audible sigh of relief when a voice asked a cautious "hello?"

"Hello, Cooper Anderson?" Kurt stilled.

"Yes? And unless my brother's ex decided to become even more female I doubt this is him, so… who are you?" She decided to ignore the little jibe at Kurt there, choosing instead to inform him of the details that he would need to know.

"I'm Carole Hudson and I'm calling on behalf of Marion Memorial Hospital. I work here and I regret to inform you that your brother has been admitted-."

"What?!" It would have been humorous how Kurt and Cooper seemed to ask that at the same time if it was another time.

"Your mother had a break and attacked him. He's been taken into a room-"

"I'm on my way." And then the phone hung up and Carole was left with a dial tone sounding against her ear and a quickly deflating step-son.

"Carole…" Burt started slowly, his eyes cautious and his hands on his son's shoulders. "Carole what are you talking about?"

She had eyes for Kurt – Kurt and his wide sea foam eyes, his quivering hands, and the indecision written clearly on his face. Was he to run to Blaine or to stay here? Was he to leave or to stay? Blaine had hurt him a lot, but that didn't mean that Kurt loved him any less. "His mother… she had a psychotic break and attacked him."

"Oh my God…." Kurt fell back against his father. "How bad is it?"

"Oh sweetie." Her tone of voice gave it all away, as did the tears rapidly forming in her eyes. "Oh sweetie, it's bad. It's very very bad."

Kurt seemed numb as he stood there, staring out in the distance. Carole hugged Finn tightly, trying not to think of how many times they had been here. Trying not to let the thought of what had happened and how broken Blaine had looked cross her mind. She hadn't seen Blaine since the day Kurt broke up with him, and that, in itself, was cause for guilt. For, if she had, would she have been able to stop this? Or at least been able to pick up on it before it happened?

The what ifs were pointless to think of, she knew that. But that didn't make them any less prominent.

* * *

Blaine was stable and breathing, but the waiting room was full of people. There were Warblers and New Directions, all of them filling up the small room and not speaking a word to one another. There seemed to be a gap that still hadn't been bridged just yet and there was a certain ex-head Warbler that was the only one allowed to get information. Wesley Montgomery was crouched down on the couch beside David Hughes, the two of them whispering to each other almost frantically.

Sam Evans was glancing over at them every now and then, but he was quiet as he sat beside Brittany Pierce, trying to ignore her pointless questions as she asked them against his ear. None of the new members were present, besides Marley Rose, and she was sitting next to Tina, the other girl's head resting against her shoulder in silence.

The Warblers were a packed bunch, but only with the people that had known Blaine before he had transferred. Jeff Sterling, Nick Duval, Jon Tannigan, Flint Beck, Trent Thurmund, Thad Gurshwood, and, out of all people, Sebastian Smythe.

It was a miss-matched group and they both had different reactions when Kurt Hummel stumbled through the door, Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson by his side. The New Directions all seemed generally happy to see them, Brittany clinging to Kurt as though he were an answer to all of her questions. Sam just nodded at them gravely, trying not to let his emotions and almost displeasure show. He loved Rachel and Kurt, he did. But he didn't exactly see why Kurt – of all people – was needed here. Not when him showing up would, if anything, just hurt Blaine more than he was bound to be hurting already.

The Warblers, on the other hand, seemed almost on par with Sam's emotions. They all seemed to tense up at the arrival of Kurt, a few of them even getting up to leave the room. Wes and David never ceased their whispering for a moment, but the air seemed to grow thicker around them, Wes glancing up at Kurt with an almost dirty look before looking back at David. The one that Sam noticed the most was Sebastian and the way he pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. At the way he held his tongue although he clearly didn't want to.

Sam never really liked Sebastian, but, at that moment, he admired the other boy's restraint. He wasn't sure that he would have been able to do the same thing if it was a year ago and Mercedes had been the one in the hospital and her boyfriend – or even ex-boyfriend – had shown up looking all teary eyed.

"How is he?" Kurt asked through a tear thick throat.

Still Sebastian didn't say anything, and neither did Sam, and it seemed Kurt didn't even know who to direct his question to. Sam wondered, for a moment, if Wes would give Kurt any information, but he didn't have to wonder for long, the other boy almost slow to answer the question. Unsure if Kurt was the right person to be giving this information to. "Stable, but they're still working on him so no visitors are allowed in yet." He spoke clipped and short, turning back to David and ending any more questions that Kurt could possibly ask him.

Kurt seemed to visibly deflate, falling into the seat beside Sam, Rachel following beside him and letting him use her shoulder as a pillow. Sam knew he shouldn't be feeling as cold towards Kurt as he was, but he couldn't seem to help it. He had been there throughout the whole falling out between Kurt and Blaine, and he knew just how much the younger boy had needed Kurt, even if Kurt himself didn't know it. He knew Blaine had screwed up, but he also knew that Kurt had cut him out of his life completely. Hadn't called him, emailed, texted, written him a letter. Hadn't given him any contact. And that was so… _cold_. Sam almost could see _why_ Blaine had done what he did.

He glanced over at Sebastian, taking in the way the other boy had stiffened and couldn't seem to tear his glare away from Kurt's deflated body. His lips were pursed tight and his eyes were shinning with something that looked suspiciously like tears. Sam knew Kurt felt the gaze, knew Kurt knew just who it was sending it to him, just like Sam knew that there was nothing that either one of them were going to do to the other.

Not with everyone else around, of course. "How is he?" A frantic voice filled the hallway, its tone a bit louder than the speaker probably intended, but also panicky. It was familiar in a way that was almost shocking to Sam, the tilt of it, the way it picked up on its vowels. Kurt seemed to sit up straighter at the sound, Wes shooting to his feet as he stuck his head out the door. "Wes? How is he?" The body of Cooper Anderson fit itself in the room, hugging Wes for a moment before moving onto David, the two of them softly telling him everything they knew.

Sam wanted to join them – wanted them to tell him that his best friend was okay too, but he wasn't going to get that. Not from them. Not from the people that considered Blaine their best friend long before he had even known who Blaine was. "Kurt, go back to New York. I've got it from here." Cooper dismissed the other boy without even looking at him, his voice cold in a way that Sam had only heard Blaine's ones. Back when he had yelled at Sam that he wasn't for sale. It was almost horrifying how similar the brothers were.

"What?" Kurt's own voice was high and stiff, surprised and insulted at the same time. "I'm not going back."

"And why not?" It seemed as though Kurt talking seemed to spur Sebastian into talking himself. All of his distain and dislike dripped through his words, his eyes sharp as daggers. "You have no obligation to stay. So go."

"Excuse me?" Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "I have no obligation to stay? And you have more of an obligation than me?"

"Yes, actually, I do. Everyone in this room does. But you and your little puppy over there." He gestured towards Rachel sharply, a familiar sardonic smirk on his face, though his eyes didn't say that he was actually being anything more than protective. "So why don't you two skedaddle your way out of here and not bother coming back."

Kurt opened his mouth to say more but was cut off by an exhausted Cooper. "Whatever, you can stay. But if you don't quit the wounded kitten act I will have you escorted out of here and taken off the visitors list, got it?" His eyes flashed dangerously, and his finger came dangerously close to poking Kurt in his eye but he seemed to get the point across, the boy huffing a bit and dropping back into his seat.

"Blaine Anderson?" A woman in a white coat called out and Cooper was walking towards her faster than Kurt could even have pushed himself back out of his seat. Wes followed closely behind and Sam propped himself up into a more attentive position. "Are you family?"

"Yes." Cooper rushed. "I'm his brother. And this is Wes, he's on the friends and family list." He explained quickly. "How is he? Is he going to be okay?"

The woman gave everyone in the room a quick once over before placing a gentle hand on Cooper's arm and guiding him from the room and out of ear shot. The room let out a collective moan, each person settling back against their seat with distress clear on their face. "He's going to be okay." Marley seemed to whisper to herself without even knowing it, settling even farther into Tina's shoulder with an unsure voice.

"This is the worst one yet, I wouldn't be so sure." Sebastian muttered under his breath, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest and his jaw set tightly.

"His mother hasn't had a break since he was thirteen." Kurt hissed angrily, a few tears leaking from his eyes. What exactly he was angry about Sam wasn't sure of.

"His mother's been having breaks since you left, Sherlock." Sebastian snapped back, with just as much venom in his voice as Kurt. "And if you had even bothered to listen to him you might have known."

Sam knows Kurt feels guilty – heck he does too. "Blaine didn't tell anyone." That didn't explain why he had come to his defense though, his voice breaking just a tiny bit more than he had expected it to.

Sebastian barely sent him a glance, looking, instead at Kurt and the way he was beginning to lose the fight that was in his body. "Why didn't he say anything?" Kurt asked with a choked voice.

"Because you didn't listen." Sebastian said harshly, even though he shouldn't have.

"We tried, okay?" Sam ran a hand down his face, standing up and walking out of the room, trying to rub away the tears that were stinging his eyes. Had they really not given him a chance to tell them? Or had Blaine simply kept it to himself? It was all so hard for him to know and make sense of. He just wanted his best friend back. Was that too much to ask?

* * *

Blaine woke up to the sound of beeping and a splitting headache. He felt a hand in his own, large and a bit cold. But familiar all the same. There was a familiar, comforting smell that filled Blaine's lungs. A sweet smell almost like chocolate, but a masculine one as well. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the light and letting out a small sound of discomfort at the light that shown down at him. "Hey, squirt." Blaine startled at the voice that greeted him, even though he knew who it would be from the smell alone.

He glanced over at Cooper, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "What's going on Coop?" His words slurred together some, his eyes a bit glazed over with each passing second.

"Mom had a break, Blaine." Cooper asked softly.

And then everything came back, including the fire in his veins. Or the echo of the fire in his veins.

He flinched violently, gasping sharply at the memories of what happened. "Don't, don't." Cooper placed his hands against his shoulders gently but his eyes intense and holding him down to the bed to keep him from moving like he wanted to. "You got stitches in your hand and you have a concussion." Cooper lowered himself back into the chair beside his bed when he was sure Blaine wouldn't be moving again. "Plus… those drugs aren't completely out of your system yet. Whatever it was she gave you, anyway."

Blaine rubbed his right hand unconsciously against his neck, blanching at the feel of the cotton ball taped there. He looked down with a frown, trying to ignore the echoes of his mother's voice in his mind. _Demon! Demon! He's not my son! He's a demon_!

Blaine swallowed, leaning back against his pillows and feeling his eyes slip shut just a bit. Cooper shifted, gripping Blaine's hand tightly once more. "Blaine… I think you should seriously think about putting mom in a home."

"No." Blaine answered quickly, his eyes wide as he sat up quickly, almost banging their heads together in the process.

"Blaine, mom _attacked_ you." Cooper stressed, leaning closer. "You're not _safe_ with her-"

"I'm as safe with her as I am with you!" Blaine gestured frantically, trying to keep his breathing even in fear that someone would come running into the room, yelling at him to calm down.

"You would have died, Blaine!" Cooper snapped. "Do you understand that? You would have died if that doctor wasn't outside of the room! If that nurse hadn't pressed the panic button!"

"She didn't think she was hurting me!"

"That doesn't mean that she's safe!"

"Where else am I going to go?!" Blaine snapped back, his voice rising painfully. "I can't go home with you! Grandma can't take me in! Dad's gone and wants nothing to do with me! Who else do I have besides her?!"

Cooper was quiet for a moment, falling back into the seat and looking at Blaine with watering eyes. Perhaps Blaine had said the wrong thing again. He wasn't sure but his head was really aching and he felt like he was a cross between sick and sobbing so he tried his hardest to push that back. "You really think I'd leave you?" Cooper asked softly, his voice thick with emotion where Blaine had never heard emotion before.

Sure, Blaine didn't doubt that Cooper cared for him. But they weren't completely blood related – only half-brother's by their shared father. Cooper's mother was a normal woman that lived out in California. Blaine's mother was a schizophrenic that lived in Ohio. There was only so much the two of them shared. There was only so much Cooper could understand. And Blaine's mother and his devotion to her wasn't one of them.

"I know you'd leave me." Blaine knew it was bitter. Knew it was petty and rude and all those things that Blaine wasn't. But Cooper had left him once before when he needed him and there was nothing different about this time to make him do the same.

"Blaine she's just going to hurt you again-"

"She's my mother, Cooper." Blaine snapped back tiredly. "Am I just supposed to give up on her?"

"No." Cooper shook his head in the negative. "You're supposed to do what's best for her. And keeping her with you isn't what's best for her."

"But putting her in a home is." Blaine snorted; crossing his arms and trying not to aggravate the IV's there were coming from his hand.

"Keeping her with you is?" Cooper countered easily. "Blaine, she's _killing_ you."

"She loves me!"

"When she remembers you." And that stung. God did that sting. Blaine felt a small pit of pain start to burn at the pit of his stomach, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. Cooper had a point, even if Blaine didn't want to believe that he did. His mother was wonderful when she remembered who he was – when she was on her medication. It was when she was off it that a problem started to occur.

But Blaine didn't say anything. He didn't give Cooper his decision on whether to put his mother in a home or not because he wasn't sure himself. All he was sure of was that nothing was making sense anymore. And all he wanted to do was sleep and sleep and never wake up.

_You're not my son! You're not my son!_

* * *

No one was allowed to visit him that night besides Cooper. The next day there was almost a line waiting to see him, but they had been quickly dispersed, leaving only three in the place of nearly thirty. They were all nearly silent, choosing not to look at one another and, instead, looking at the door and waiting for Cooper to exit and tell them who could go in.

The oldest Anderson brother was tired and ragged when he exited, his eyes drawn and a frown on his face. He didn't bother giving them a glance, settling into a seat against the far wall instead. Without word Kurt took the step first, glancing at the two boys beside him, Sebastian giving him a look of distaste before joining Cooper, Sam choosing to sit down right where he had been standing, his back against the wall and his eyes staring at the wall, yet unseeing.

Kurt sighed some, before walking in the door Cooper had just walked out of. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting to see, but he had prepared himself for the worst. The worst wasn't what greeted him, however. Instead Blaine was sitting up in his bed, a book in his lap, and his eyes skimming over the pages.

It was almost as though nothing had happened to him.

But that was a lie. This whole image Blaine was trying to project was a lie. Kurt knew Blaine probably hadn't turned a page since he had opened the book. Knew that Blaine was most likely thinking about things he shouldn't be thinking about instead of what was written in ink in front of him. Because as much as Blaine had hurt him, he knew Blaine. And he loved Blaine even though he felt as though he really shouldn't.

"Blaine…?" He asked softly, not risking himself by going any farther into the room.

To be honest Kurt was conflicted. Was he supposed to comfort Blaine like his heart so wanted him to? Or was he supposed to just turn around and leave as his brain was telling him to? Was he to hold him like he always wanted to do when Blaine looked so pained? Or was he supposed to do nothing and just let him suffer?

Blaine jumped in surprise, his head jerking up to stare at Kurt in wonder. It was almost as though he didn't believe that Kurt was really there. Almost as though he didn't know what to do with himself besides stare in wonder and maybe just a little bit of fear. His face was a painted picture of everything Kurt himself was feeling. Despite some of the pain there. No… Kurt hadn't caused all of that pain.

"Kurt…." Blaine's voice trailed off, and his eyes were watering in that way that Kurt always hated. He stood rooted in the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I… I don't.…" Kurt looked away from those eyes – tried to push the urge to just hug Blaine down and away. This boy had hurt him so much. Had ruined their relationship singlehandedly. Had given him so much pain in such a small amount of time.

"Can I just…" Blaine cut himself off, closing his eyes as though it was too painful for him to say out loud. And perhaps it was, whatever it was that Blaine had been going to say. "You should be in New York."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" Kurt snapped, though he kept his voice quiet as Blaine flinched at his tone. He took a step closer. "I think I'm right where I need to be… for now."

He settled into the seat next to Blaine, taking in the way Blaine shifted his body away from him, almost to protect himself from whatever pain Kurt could inflict upon him. "Why didn't you tell me?" Kurt asked softly, hating how much his voice was breaking up over the thought of this one boy. Over the one boy that had stolen his heart and was content to keep it to himself.

"What would I have said?" Blaine's voice was thick with unshed tears. "T-that my mother hadn't been taking her pills? That my father had left us and gotten married to someone else? T-that I was so s-scared and a-alone and…" Blaine shook his head almost frantically. "God, Kurt. Would you have even cared?"

"How can you even ask me that?" Kurt asked in hurt wonder. Did Blaine honestly think Kurt wouldn't have cared? If there was anyone that Kurt cared about it was him! What had led him to believe that Kurt wouldn't have cared?

"B-Because! You-you were in New York! And you have this a-am-amazing life and a great great job and I-I'm just the high school boyfriend that-that isn't worth any-anything and…." Blaine cut himself off, a hand firmly over his mouth to keep himself from saying anything more. Though, at this moment, Kurt wasn't sure if Blaine had much else to say. Or if he could say much else. He was crying so much Kurt was almost sure that Blaine wasn't even allowing himself to breathe.

It was terrifying to say the least. "You were worth everything to me."

"It's always going to be past tense with you." Blaine muttered brokenly, staring up at the ceiling instead of at him. "And I think that's what hurts the most."

"Blaine…." Kurt shook his head, trying to stop his own conflicting emotions. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I am." He looked down at the ground that his feet rested upon. "You don't deserve it."

"No…. This is exactly what I deserve."

"To be broken?" Kurt leaned closer. "You deserve to be loved, Blaine. Not to be hated. Especially not by your own mother."

"My mother doesn't hate me Kurt." Blaine said harshly, something flashing in his eyes. "My mother loves me." His voice was thick with emotion, more emotion than Kurt had heard in it in a long time.

"She has an awful way of showing it."

"She's _schizophrenic_." Blaine stressed. "She didn't know it was me."

"And that excuses what she did to you?"

"No!"

"So why are you acting like it does?"

And that was the question wasn't it? Why did Blaine have to excuse everything that everyone ever did wrong to him? Why couldn't he just allow himself to feel wronged? "Because it does!"

"You just said that it didn't, Blaine, make up your mind!" Kurt egged on. "Are you willing to forgive her for what she did? Are you willing to spend a night in the same house with the woman who was going to kill you because she didn't remember you were her son?"

"I don't know!" Blaine yelled at him and Kurt jerked back in surprise. Blaine had never yelled at him before. Blaine hardly ever raised his voice. "_I don't know_, okay! But what am I supposed to do? She's _all_ I have left!"

"What about those people waiting outside to see you?" Kurt swallowed. "What about Sam? Or Cooper? Or, hell, Sebastian?" He paused. "What about _me_, Blaine?"

"You're gone." Blaine spoke through clenched teeth. "You've made that _very_ clear."

"And the others? What about them?" Blaine didn't have an answer. "I know this is hard." Kurt leaned forward even more, tentatively taking Blaine's uninjured hand into his own. "But you have to let people help you."

"Who?" Blaine swallowed thickly. "I can't just… I can't just put her in a home. It's not fair."

"To her? Or to you?" Kurt asked softly, looking down at their joined hands. "Because I think it's about time you do something selfish for a change."

"I did something selfish." Blaine traded a meaningful look with him. "And look where that got me."

And, this time, Kurt was the one that didn't know how to answer, instead squeezing the hand he held in his own and hoping that that was enough. Enough for now.

Enough to show him that even though things weren't okay with them – even though things might not ever be okay with them – he was not alone.

* * *

In the end it took a visit from Sam to get him to sign the papers. Sam, who hadn't said much of anything, just sat next to him and given him a nice, long, strong hug. Sam, who had let him cry and hadn't said anything besides telling him that he wasn't going to be doing this alone.

Cooper had stood by his side as he signed the necessary papers. Kurt hadn't been told, and neither had Sebastian who had visited him with a bouquet of flowers and a song to sing in comfort. Sam had need next him on the bed, his arm around his shoulders in a silent comfort.

And if Blaine had cried and cursed himself to the next week afterwards no one said anything.

* * *

**A: N -** I might do a part two that shows Blaine healing and visiting his mother and stuff. But if I do that chapter... which pairing? I think I'm between two now. Klaine or Blam? I think the most logical right now is Blam... But, you know, what the readers want! So... up to you! Do you want a part two? Or should I leave it here? Happy Thanksgiving all you Americans!


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